The Hunt
by dreaming-of-storms
Summary: The Master Hand sets up a hunt for the items most important to the Smashers. The prize for the winners? Their freedom from the tournament. ..::..Eventual SamusxZelda, M for later chapters..::..
1. 0 Idea

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that inhabit the story.

Please read!!: A very Au-ish look at SSBB. There is no specific Mansion, merely a stadium, and the only one who knows that Samus is, indeed, female is Pikachu. More will be explained later.

Warnings: Graphic violence and foul language. And, of course, sexual situations. (But that's much later)

_..::.._

_Part 0: Idea_

_..::.._

In the realm where space held no reign and time had no meaning, two titans raged their never ending battle. Dialga and Palkia, gods of their world, clashed, snarling and roaring like primitive, wild beasts. The Master Hand knew not of what these two warriors fought over; logic dictated that they should exist harmoniously. After all, without space and without time, realms would fall into chaos and disarray, dive bombing into ruin and discord.

The Master Hand, in all of its infinite powers and wisdom, merely concluded that the pokemon were bored and decided that fighting each other to the death would solve it. Foolish creatures. The Master Hand knew how to sate its own boredom, and had conquered it by gathering heroes, champions, creatures, and villians from the planes of eternity and bringing them to its own realm. Families had been split apart and lives were ruined, but did the Master Hand care?

Why, of course it did. Which was why it had fashioned a plane of existence for each of its playthings and created replicas of the people important to them. Of course, these replicas couldn't move, nor could they speak or live. The Master Hand didn't want to spoil its "Smashers", now did it?

For a while, things had been...well. Then, the Master Hand was bored once more. While it watched the "Smashers" fight to its non-existant heart's content, it was far too boring here. The Master Hand pulled its Other, the Crazy Hand to its side and together, they made a new being. This new being was named "Tabuu", for it had been made using only the most forbidden of secrets. Tabuu had been gifted with marvelous powers, and had been crafted to suit the Master and Crazy Hands' desires.

But Tabuu didn't like that. Tabuu rebelled.

The Master Hand certainly did not like that. He locked Tabuu away in its own, special realm, caught in a pocket of darkness, without space nor time.

It had been nicknamed Sub-Space.

But then Tabuu had ensnared its creator, and the Crazy Hand had fled. Soon, the Master Hand found itself rescued by its own playthings, as together the "Smashers" defeated Tabuu and restored the planes once more.

The Master Hand was grateful. He didn't tell them of their fate, to forever play to its whim and its own desires. Neither did they complain, much. They simply lived out their lives here, in this forgotten plane, and whenever the Master Hand wanted to see true bloodshed, it called them all to a stadium to fight and fight and fight.

And now, the Master Hand was bored once more. Dialga and Palkia were too predictable in their attacks, and outright killing was not in the Master Hand's style.

Then, it had an idea. And wonderful, marvelous idea. Had the Master Hand been created with a back, it would have given itself a congradulatory pat on it. The Master Hand cackled, his disembodied voice echoing in the vast expanses of the realm. Dialga and Palkia halted in their war to gaze at the Master Hand, respectful fear glistening in their eyes. They knew better than to engage this being, in battle or otherwise.

_"Come to me, my Smashers; it's time we played a little game..."_

_..::.._

_Part 0-end_

_..::.._


	2. I Gathering of Heroes

Disclaimer: I do not own Super Smash Bros.

_..::.._

_I. Gathering of Heroes _

_..::.._

A thrum in the brain. A tick when there should have been a tock. An odd sort of shifting in the soul. Symptoms and signs that the Master Hand wanted them all back; most likely to participate in the "tournament" again. No one truly wanted to go back; there was only so much the fighters could tolerate.

Their very sanity was beginning to become undone. Thoughts were becoming scrambled, tempers flared more easily. Memories and pasts long buried, suppressed, forgotten were being wrenched up from the depths of their psyche and deposited to them on a silver platter on the palm of the Master Hand. A sickening descent into madness, it was.

It was in a meager stadium, known as Battlefield, that they usually gathered. Battlefield was a stadium suspended in the air; fencing crowned the top edges, a reminder that once one entered, they were unable to be freed until the Master Hand deemed it so. They had tried, on many occasions to escape. It was impossible. The Master Hand's realm was a prison built intricate and complex. with twists and turns. Yes, escape was a myth to them now.

The first series of heroes to enter, were none other than the Mario brothers, the fabled plumbers from the Mushroom Kingdom. Mario stood tall, despite his small height, his face contorted into a grimace. Luigi was shuffled behind him, aware that soon, oh so soon, the battles would begin. He would no doubt have to fight Mario, or even the princess, heaven forbid.

A crackle, no, a chime of magic alerted him to a third visitor. Luigi turned and saw Peach, his princess, twirling her parasol slowly in between her fingers. She was as perfect and princess-y as ever, but her face was drawn into a sad sort of expression; not a frown, yet not a grimace. He could see she was trembling slightly, but it was an improvement from the bawling wails she had once spewed during the second "tournament". It had broken Luigi's heart, and had annoyed others. Peach had grown up since then, and it shone in the dark circles beneath her eyes, the paleness of her lips.

A rumbling growl gave away Bowser's presence; Mario had already greeted the turtle king properly. After all, when united by a common cause, brutal hatred was shoved aside for a thick tension and grudging respect.

Aircrafts landed; portals were opened; the frosty look of fear and hatred and a lost innocence. One by one, the Smashers, as the Master Hand referred to them as, were being gathered again, to participate in a blood-sport. It was akin to being gladiators for an arrogant dictator; freedom, however, would not be awarded to the champion. The humanoid animals of Starfox and Wolf. The odd entities of the world of Popstar. That fast, blue fellow and the rugged mercenary, the blue-haired swordsmen. The Queen of Hyrule, her champion, and mortal enemy, along with a mutated form of said champion. The whole lot of them.

"Zell," Peach said softly; the first one to break the silence, the first to acknowledge that this wasn't a horrible nightmare that could be ended and escaped. Zelda acknowledged her friend with a wane smile and a gentle nod. Her cheeks looked hollow, and drawn. Peach didn't ask the question automatically bubbling to her lips; _are you alright_? Of course they weren't alright. No one was alright, not as long as they were still in this hell.

The sky began to rumble, boil. Dark, purple clouds dragged across the once blue sky, blocking sunlight and hope. Thunder sparked and cracked; thunder boomed, causing ears to ring. Lucas whimpered, but that was the only sign anyone was intimidated. They had seen this before. The Master Hand was a bit of a dramatic sort of sadistic bastard.

The phantom image of their tormenter began to solidify from the sky; the Crazy Hand joined it later, twitching and flailing its fingers, as if caught in seizure.

"Welcome back my friends," greeted the Master Hand, mockingly, "I trust you've all been well?"

Many held their tongues, and many held their guns.

"I have some good news," continued the Hand, ignoring the hatred simmering in the crowd, "your tournament shall not be held."

Again, silence. However, it was a shocked, awed silence; many jaws dropped at the words. Hope, the traitorous emotion, rose within the most optimistic of them all.

"Instead, you shall receive a new task," the Master Hand cackled, "a hunt, you could say! You shall travel the worlds I've given you, the worlds I've spent such precious time creating for you. The hunt, shall be for items most important to those who live within these worlds; each possess a sentimental value, and would surely rip the owner's heart to shreds if taken. But, who's to say a little agony won't make the heart grow stronger, eh?"

The hatred was returning full force, and more than a few people were hissing expletives beneath their breath, cursing and praying that the Master Hand would be damned to hell. No such luck.

"You will each be given an ally," said the Hand, "an ally specifically chosen to hamper you. The key to the game is teamwork!" It shrieked a high-pitched wail of a laugh. "Work to each others strength and weaknesses to your advantage, if you can."

"And if we can't?" The growl came from a furious Wolf, his gray fur bristled and claws bared.

"Well, then, you're plum out of luck," the Master Hand replied. "Now, let's team you up!" He began to give out the names of teammates. Snake and Olimar, Ganondorf and Sonic, Peach and Ike, Marth and Lucas, so on.

Link began to fidget when he noticed that his name and Zelda's hadn't been called yet. Toon Link, the odd boy, had been shoved with the Ice Climbers. If Zelda were to be given to that questionable Falcon man, the one in the blue suit... Link reached behind him and griped the handle of the Master Sword tightly, resisting the urge to growl.

"Zelda, and....oh, why not, Samus!"

Link's eyebrows shot up and met with his hairline. Samus? That android? Well. At least that gave him a bit of relief. He'd been fighting with Samus since the very beginning. The mechanical fighter was honorable, if machines owned a sense of the notion. His grip on the handle loosened considerably. However, he was still uneasy; R.O.B. was a prime example of the fickle ways of machines. Still, the android was certainly better than the Falcon man.

..::..

Zelda perked up at the mention of her name, and found it surprising that it should be next to Samus's. She stood a little from the crowd, craned her neck. She saw a flash of red, a glow of green, splashes of orange and yellow. The familiar clank, clank, clank of Samus's boots made her ears ring, slightly, and she saw the array of colors move closer. There was the robot, Samus, in all its technological glory. The android was fantastically made; weapons and modifications were packed into such sleek, smooth metal. The skin of her left hand prickled at what could be a new source of information. It was another reminder of what Zelda held in her body, and that might have irked her, just a bit.

When the android finally stopped in front of her, Zelda was awed. She had to crane her neck to simply look at the green visor, and the top of her head only came up to the underside of the chin to the robotic fighter's helm. As she stared at the green visor, a flicker of movement on the other side of it drew her attention. She saw the dark shadow of...eyes! Yes! There was someone inside the metal, which meant that the mass of technology was merely a suit. Or, her mind reasoned, an android, at the least.

"Hello," Zelda greeted at last.

The shadowed eyes in the visor seemed to widen. A voice crackled over some hidden speaker from within the suit; quiet enough for only Zelda to hear.

"You figured it out," said the flat, emotionless voice. It was devoid of true inflection, any lilts or accents. Simply a mass of words in a low hum; Zelda couldn't determine Samus' gender (if, in fact, that Samus had a gender to begin with and wasn't a simple android).

Zelda opened her mouth to respond, when, suddenly, there came a loud shout from Wario: "HEY! What's the big idea?! I don't got a partner!"

"Hmm," 'hummed the Master Hand, "that is a problem. Can't have you gallivanting about without supervision, can I? No, no, made that mistake once. We just need to find someone else...?"

"How do you suppose you're gonna do that?" Wario laughed obnoxiously. "Snap your fingers and bring someone from nowhere?"

The Master Hand chuckled "No. But I might pull someone from someone else."

It snapped its fingers.

A gold sort of circle, made of light appeared beneath Zelda's feet. The Hylian queen gasped, and watched as the edge of the light circle launched Samus away; powerful magic, magic destined for her. Zelda tried to move away, but it seemed like her feet were glued to the floor. Another circle shimmered into being behind her, and her arms snapped to both sides of her body. Her wrists met with the end of the small circle at her back; a cuff made of energy slid over her wrists, locking her arms in place.

"What's going on?" she cried out. Panic began to bubble. "What is this!?"

"My dear," the Master Hand seemed to purr, "You're merely carrying another contestant; and her help is sorely needed."

Zelda lost her voice, lost her breath. That meant...

"You don't understand! You can't take her!" Zelda screamed, wrestling against her bonds. "We're bonded by the soul! Two halves of a whole! I can't-she can't-it's too dangerous! We'll shatter!"

"Well then, should you do," the Hand replied in a sneer, "Wario will still have a partner; I'm sure Samus wouldn't mind subbing."

A whirring sound echoed in her ears; the circle behind her was beginning to turn. There was a curious pull in the pit of her stomach as it began to rotate.

"Let's all give Sheik a big hello when we see her, shall we?" The Master Hand said.

It snapped its fingers.

Something inside her clicked, popped, cracked free. ("What the fuck are you doing!?" that man, Solid Reptile, or something like that, roared.) Zelda gasped in pain; a voice inside her head echoed. The circle spun faster. There wasn't a real pain, exactly, more like a uncomfortable shift and Zelda was soon acutely aware of the separate entity inside of herself. For a moment, her soul was split in two, as was her psyche, her very being.

The separate entity was sucked out.

Her heart began to race and thoughts swirled. It felt like she had been balanced upon a thin wire above an endless abyss, with that second being there to provide the precious safety net. Now the net was gone, and she was left to dangle. One slip, one mistake, and she would plunge into the darkness. There was a cold block of ice where the second half had been, and she felt chilled to the bone. The world began to cloud before her eyes, and then the bonds at her feet and wrists were gone; vanished. Zelda was sent tumbling forwards and right into Peach's arms, a sort of safety net against the unforgiving concrete of Battlefield. When had her friend rushed to her aid, she wondered dimly.

"Are you alright?" Zelda opened her mouth, tried to speak; her vocal cords seemed pasted together. "Zelda? Oh god, answer me!"

Zelda chanced a glance behind herself. Standing there was a phantom, the barest of outlines. Then the image began to solidify, and there Sheik stood, in the flesh. Her legs trembled-no, her body trembled-and her red eyes were dull from the loss of her own half. The sight of Sheik seemed to make the wire Zelda stood upon tremble; she nearly lost her balance.

"Zelda, you listen to me!" Peach demanded, but her voice cracked and seemed to dim. The world began to lose its light.

"What the hell did you do to her!?" shouted someone else; it was hard to tell who it was though. Zelda could only see Sheik's eyes, two little specks of dull, unpolished ruby, veiled by strands of wheat-colored hair. The Sheikah's lips moved; then Sheik collapsed to the ground. Zelda stared, part of her brain wondering why the blonde hadn't burst into shards when her body hit the floor. It certainly felt like something was inexplicably shattered inside of herself, that was for sure.

_I warned you_, Zelda thought to herself-or perhaps to the Master Hand. _I told you we would break._

_..::.. _

_Part One-end_


End file.
